


Christmas Reunion

by Jestana



Category: National Treasure (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don’t copy to another site, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-16 03:30:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18513004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jestana/pseuds/Jestana
Summary: Ben finds a way to bring his parents together for Christmas.





	Christmas Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Written for adda5 on LJ as a Christmas gift years ago. Her only request was for Patrick/Emily. What happened to Ben did happen to a friend of a friend and I hope that person recovers quickly from his injury.

A few days before Christmas, Patrick Henry Gates was awakened by the ringing of his telephone. When he answered, a male voice asked, "Is this Patrick Gates?"

"This is he," he replied to the query, fumbling for his glasses on the nightstand, bringing the green blur of the alarm clock numbers into focus: 3:33 AM. His heart clenched in his chest. Very rarely did early morning phone calls bring good news. "Who is this?"

The voice on the other end of the phone sounded sympathetic. "Your son, Benjamin Gates, was hurt early this morning and is in the hospital."

"Oh, God." He sat up, pushing his covers back as his heart seemed to sink into his stomach. "What happened to him? Will he be all right?"

This time, the voice was soothing. "He'll be fine, but his shoulder was broken, so his left arm will be in a sling for a few days."

"How did he manage to break his shoulder?" Even as he voiced his incredulous question, he got up and crossed to the dresser, digging through it for a change of clothes.

Once again, the tone of the voice shifted, adopting the cadence of someone reciting facts. "According to the security guard who saw the incident, he was exiting a bar with his two friends at about two this morning when a drunk man attempting to enter at the same time body-slammed Mr. Gates into the doorjamb. His two companions, Mr. Ian Howe and Mr. Riley Poole, restrained the other man while the security guard called emergency services to arrest the drunk and take Mr. Gates to the hospital."

"I see." Still holding the jeans and shirt he'd pulled out of the dresser, he frowned as he wondered what the hell his son had been doing at a bar at that time of night. _I doubt he was following a clue for that blasted treasure..._ "Will I be allowed to see him now, or wait for visiting hours?"

The impersonal cadence disappeared from the stranger's voice. "You should be able to see him for a little bit at least."

"Thank goodness." He closed his eyes briefly. Despite the reassurances of the other man, he wouldn't believe that Benjamin was all right until he'd seen him with his own eyes. "Which hospital is he at?"

"At the Virginia Hospital Center in Arlington," the voice replied, his tone brisk.

Nodding, Patrick shook out his jeans and shirt, setting them out on the bed. "Thank you very much, Mr...?"

"Dr. David Reynolds, Mr. Gates," the man answered, amusement coloring his tone. "I tended to your son."

Cradling the phone between his cheek and his shoulder, Patrick exchanged his pajama pants for his jeans. "Thank you, Dr. Reynolds."

"Not at all, Mr. Gates," David's voice was full of sincerity. "I'll see you when you get to the hospital."

With that, they both hung up. Patrick finished dressing and barely remembered to grab his keys, cell phone, and wallet before he headed out the door. He forced himself to follow the laws of the road as he drove to the hospital. It wouldn't do for him to get stopped for speeding while he was trying to go see his son. When he arrived, the snow that had been threatening started to fall. He entered the hospital and stopped short inside the door. A familiar small, petite figure stood off to the side, arms wrapped around her waist, and his heart skipped a few beats. "Em?"

"Patrick." His ex-wife's voice was clipped as she regarded him with impersonal eyes.

His heart froze at her attitude. It seemed not even twenty-five years was enough to cool her anger. "Are you here to see Ben?"

"Of course I am," she retorted, blue eyes flashing with annoyance. "He's my son, too. Just because we're divorced doesn't change that."

Patrick bristled. Of _course_ she'd taken his words the wrong way. She _always_ took his words the wrong way! "I never said that. I was just saying--"

"That I have no right to see my own son," she cut him off with a glare that would have left him a smoldering pile of dust if looks could kill.

He shook his head, getting annoyed that she kept jumping to conclusions. "No! If you'd let me finish my sentences--"

"Why should I? I know what you're--" she began, only to be cut off as well.

The stranger who spoke was a tall, well-built man wearing a doctor's lab coat that was a little rumpled. "Dr. Gates, Dr. Appleton, I'm Dr. Reynolds."

"Oh, hello." Smiling, Emily offered her hand to the man.

Patrick shook his hand as well, his annoyance fading as his thoughts turned to his son. "Hello, Dr. Reynolds."

"If you'll both come with me, I can take you to your son." Turning, the doctor led them to the elevator.

They followed in silence. Patrick was keenly aware of Emily so close after all these years apart. Confined in the elevator, he swore he could smell the honeysuckle and ivy perfume he'd bought for her for every anniversary before they divorced. As the elevator came to a stop and they exited, he shook his head at himself. There was no way she'd kept buying that perfume. As they walked down a corridor, two young men stood up from chairs at their approach. Patrick recognized the shorter one with dark brown hair and glasses as Riley Poole, a friend of Benjamin's. He guessed the other man was the Ian Howe Dr. Reynolds had mentioned on the phone. Riley offered a little wave and a sheepish smile. "Hi, Patrick."

"Hi, Riley." He greeted the young man with a handshake, turning to indicate Emily. "This is Ben's mother, Dr. Emily Appleton. Emily, this is Riley Poole, Ben's friend."

She shook his hand with a smile. "Hello, Mr. Poole."

"Hello, Dr. Appleton," he eyed her with some trepidation, clearly remembering some things both Patrick and Ben had mentioned about her. He turned to indicate the other man. "This is Ian Howe, another friend of Ben's. Ian, these are Ben's parents: Dr. Patrick Gates and Dr. Emily Appleton."

They shook hands and murmured pleasantries. Once they finished, Dr. Reynolds indicated the door behind Riley and Ian. "Ben is through there."

"May we see him at the same time?" Patrick asked the question, anxious to see his son, but not so much that he wanted to start another fight with Emily.

After considering them for a moment, the doctor nodded. "Normally, I'd say no, but I'll make an exception in this case."

"Thank you." Smiling his relief, Patrick turned to enter the room at the same time Emily did. After some glaring on both sides, he gave in to chivalry and gestured for her to go through the door first.

Her head held high, she entered the room and he followed close behind her. "Benjamin, are you all right?"

"I'm fine, Mom," he replied from the hospital bed, a strap and sling around his chest keeping his left arm immobilized. Emily moved to that side of his bed, her fingers lightly skimming over his arm. His eyes widened when he saw his father as well. "Dad?"

He stood on the opposite side of the bed from his ex-wife, squeezing his son's free hand. "When I got the call, I had to come see you with my own eyes."

"What were you doing at a bar at two in the morning, Benjamin Franklin Gates?" Emily demanded before her son could say anything.

Benjamin winced as he adjusted his position. "We didn't mean to stay out late. We just lost track of time."

"At a bar at two o'clock in the morning?" She eyed him sternly.

Shaking his head at her stubbornness--something that had drawn him to her in the first place--Patrick responded before Benjamin could. "Let it go, Emily. We're lucky all that happened was a broken shoulder."

" _All_ that happened?" she repeated, turning her glare on him once again. "He wouldn't have a broken shoulder at all if he hadn't been there in the first place!"

He folded his arms across his chest, wondering how she could only focus on that fact. "It could have been worse. He could have been alone when it happened without anyone nearby to call the emergency services. A person could end up with broken ribs from a body slam. I've seen it happen. Need I say more?"

"You always were a pessimist, Patrick," she retorted, transferring her glare from her son to her ex-husband.

Reaching across with his right hand, Benjamin caught her hand with his. "Mom, he's trying to point out that we should be _glad_ that it's not worse."

"Yes, of course." She seemed to wilt at that, looking sheepish. Leaning down, she kissed his cheek. "I _am_ glad you're all right, Ben."

He smiled and squeezed her hand. "I am, too, Mom."

"So am I," Patrick chimed in, gently squeezing his son's shoulder.

Emily gave him a sharp look, but thankfully refrained from commenting. After a short visit, they left the room to give their son a chance to sleep. Dr. Reynolds was waiting for them. "He should restrict the amount of traveling that he does for the next week or so to give his shoulder more of a chance to recover."

"I live not too far from here," Emily told the doctor. "Would that be all right?"

After confirming how far away she was, he nodded. "Yes, that will be fine. I'd like to see him again in a week and check the progress on his shoulder. If I like the look of it, he'll be allowed to travel again."

"Thank you, doctor." Patrick shook his hand.

Emily shook his hand as well, expressing her own thanks. After he left, they headed for the elevator. "We'll have to do Christmas differently this year."

"I know." He nodded, hands shoved into his pockets as they waited for the elevator. Normally, Ben spent part of the day with him and the other part with his mother. With his shoulder broken, however, and the restriction on traveling, either Patrick would have to join them or not spend Christmas with his son at all.

The elevator arrived and they stepped inside. He kept his gaze fixed on the doors as the car descended. She was still the most beautiful woman in the world to him. The years had only enhanced her beauty in his eyes. Quietly, she told him, "You may join us if you wish."

"What?" He turned and stared at her, not sure he'd heard her correctly.

She didn't look at him, her own eyes fastened on the floor indicator. "You heard me, Patrick."

"Thank you, Emily." He didn't have time to say anything else because they'd reached the ground floor and she exited quickly.

He followed more slowly, his heart thumping in his chest at the thought that they would have a proper family Christmas for the first time in twenty-five years.

*

"Hello, Patrick." Though her words were stiff, Emily opened the door for him and gestured for him to enter.

He glanced around curiously as he did, still holding the stack of gifts he'd brought. Everything was neat and orderly, as he'd expected it would, holiday decorations tastefully indicating the season. She closed the door and he turned to her, indicating the gifts in his hands. "Where would you like these?"

"Under the tree will be fine," she replied, leading him into the living room, where a tree stood in one corner, gifts stacked underneath it.

Benjamin, sitting on the couch, looked up at their entrance and smiled. "Hi, Dad."

"Hi, Son." Patrick crossed to the tree and placed his gifts with the rest. Once that was finished, he removed his coat and scarf. "How's the shoulder?"

Smiling wryly as Emily took Patrick's things to put in the hall closet, Benjamin replied, "Hurts like a bitch at times, but that's what painkillers are for."

"Watch your language, Benjamin Franklin Gates," Emily scolded when she came back in the room, a smile twitching at her lips.

Chuckling, Patrick sat down next to his son, though he addressed his question to his ex-wife. "Is anyone else joining us?"

"Victoria will be here later," Emily replied, perching on a nearby chair. "And Riley said he'll probably drop by at some point today."

He nodded, wondering if Victoria had aged as gracefully as her twin sister. "What about that uncle of yours, Emily? Balthazar?"

"I have no idea," she admitted reluctantly. "I haven't heard from him for a few months, but that's no reason to worry. He'll sometimes not contact me for a year or two at a time."

Patrick nodded. Balthazar Blake was a bit of an enigma. Gruff yet kind, the older man tended to pop up for a day or two, and then not visit for maybe a year. As his son had grown up, he'd been startled to realize that Benjamin bore an uncanny resemblance to his uncle.

Much to his surprise, the holiday passed pleasantly. He didn't know if it was the holiday or the fact that there were others around, but Emily seemed less inclined to snap at him. Patrick was glad for it, because it made it easier for him to enjoy Riley and Victoria's company. Even once they'd left after dinner had been eaten and gifts opened, Emily was quiet and pensive. Benjamin, perhaps sensing something, took himself off to bed not long after Victoria and Riley left.

This left Patrick and Emily alone in the living room, watching the lights flicker on the tree. He was reluctant to leave. For the first time in twenty-five years, they'd felt like a proper family again and he didn't want to lose that feeling. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat. "I, um, have another gift for you, Emily."

"Oh?" She shifted on the couch to face him more fully. "What is it?"

"Open it and find out." He offered her a small, square-ish box.

"All right." Laughing a little, she did as he suggested. He waited tensely as she stared at the contents of the gift. Finally, she looked up at him. "My travel case?"

He nodded, not sure what her reaction meant. "Yes, it took me several years to track them down and we were already divorced by then, so I just held onto yours with the vague idea of having Ben give it to you, but I never remembered."

"Oh, Pat." She laughed softly, closing the box and setting it aside.

Much to his surprise, she scooted closer on the couch, their knees touching. "Em?"

"Look up," she told him, gesturing with her chin.

He did and saw a familiar small plant dangling from the ceiling overhead. "When and how did that get there?"

"Does it matter?" she asked with a fond smile, cupping his cheek with one hand.

He looked down at her and smiled, reaching up to brush her curls back from her cheek. "No."

"Good."

Patrick never did figure out which of them kissed the other first, but asserted later that it didn't matter anyway. All that was really important was the fact that he had his Emily in his arms again and he didn't want to let her go again.


End file.
